They tell the Blackbird to flyBut how can he flyWhen they’ve stolen his wings?
Blackbird, Fly tells the true stories of two Haitian men and their experiences growing up in the 80’s in the USA. Marc Bamuthi Joseph opens the scene arching his body, preparing for flight, but falls before even flying –“How can he fly/ When they’ve stolen his wings?” A dissonance of articulate racialized slurs and priviliged wing clippers become the underlying message of the whole act. To me, I would describe Joseph first and foremost as a poetic rapper. Strange, upon first impression, but coherent and melodic with every passing beat. The rhythm between his harlem-inspired lyrics and contorted dance moves represent the morale of Blackbird, Fly.
How can the BlackbirdFlyWhen he has no wings?
Daniel Bernanard Roumain’s acclaimed work as a composer and violinist has him working with the likes of Lady Gaga and Philip Glass and for major events such as the Olympics. But for him, working on a smaller, intimate scale is his everyday calling. After Joseph’s introduction, Roumain passionately performed his soliloquy, merging classic violin scores with blues, country, and even modern remixes. You can hear the intensity of his Haitian spirit vibrate along the cords. The end of his ten minute solo had him sweating and panting, and his violin without a string. As for us, the audience members, we were left wondering: how did such a contrasting duet form?!
“Hey Vancouver!” Joseph calls out to us in our half-cafe-half-stadium-like seating arrangements. “Rumor has it that y’all are very polite! How about we break the stereotype, huh?!”Cheers from the audience show our agreement. Loud cheers.“Then let’s get this show started!”
My storyBegins in the middle.
The poetic rapper and composer merge their sounds together, forming a contemporary mode of story-telling amidst a classical beat. And somehow, those two work in perfect harmony.“The bond between us definitely has to do with our Haitian heritage.”And you hear it in their intertwining stories.Stories of standing out with dark skin in the 80’s in New York.Stories of seeing his mother, soaked in blood day after day.Stories of pride amongst members for having that very skin –“Imagine their faces, had they known that my son is half Chinese.”Stories of walking his son, in search of the seeds of birth.And stories of the Blackbird, told again and again in their cultural upbringing.
And here we all were, listening to the Blackbird, Fly.